Car Radio

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I ponder of something great my lungs will fill and then depilate

I looked out the window thinking out how've I've given up on it all. There's certain things you can do in the end to justify your actions. And I knew I couldn't justify this well enough for anyone to understand. I took took a deep breath and reached for the window seal.

They fill with fire and exhale desire. I know it's dire my time today.

I glance at the clock, 4:00. Good, no one will be home for at least a hour. I have to do it know if I want to be happy tomorrow. I can't have them catch me.

I have these thoughts so often I ought to replace that slot with what I once bought.

These wishes weren't natural. No words could punish me enough though, so I'll take it upon myself to leave am impact. I used to be so happy, I'd always say I'd never do it as a child. You always turn away from it as something impossible and inhumane. Yet here I am a step away.

Cause somebody stole my car radio and now I just sit in silence.

I heard the what seemed so distant rain splatter on my window. The rain itself stared to pour down harder, but yet it seemed quieter. I have no more happy thoughts in my head, time to make some.

Sometimes quiet is violent. I find it hard to hide it.

I have a hard time hiding them. The constant fear of being found out always eats away at me. Pull down your shirt and pants. Don't put pressure on your left leg.

My pride is no longer inside. It's on my sleeve reminding me of who I killed in my dreams.

I remember the other day when I snapped at my friend for asking me if something was wrong. Nothing was wrong with me. Nothing, nothing at all. Nothing you'd care about. Nothing you need to know about.

I hate this car there's no hiding from what's inside me.

I hate the silence of this room. The rhythmic tempo of the rain. It triggers a deep sense of serenity that just causes me to lash out.

There is no distraction from what is real.

I hear a car alarm go off from downstairs that snaps me out of my very long and dark train of thought. Stupid car. Stupid rain. Stupid silence.

I could pull the steering wheel.

I look down at the crevasse in the window seal the exposes a sharp edge that reflects against the dim light of the lamppost outside. I drag my finger tip across the top as a slight scarlet invades the shinnying silver creating a dance of death. I take the blade out and run my finger down the sides. So sharp, so precise.

I have these thoughts so often I ought to replace that slot with what I once bought.

My mom tried to fix the window the other day. I about had a heart attack. She was so close. To close. I take the cold blade and run it smoothly across the palm of my hand. Blame it on a paper cut.

Cause somebody stole my car radio and now I just sit in silence.

As the rain continues to pour buckets outside my glass barrier I pull the blade quickly across my ankle, causing the bright red substance to ooze out.

Now I just sit in silence.

I ran the blade across my stomach faster then the last.

Now I just sit in silence

I take the blade and bring it to my wrist.

And now I just sit.

And I pull it with a small amount of force.

I ponder of something great.

I hear my mom drive up to the drive way.

My lungs will fill and then deflate.

I start to panic, she can't be home early. Not today.

They fill with fire, exhale desire. I know it's dire my time today.

I frantically throw on a baggy sweat shirt and pants. I have to clean up the blood quickly. I take my sock and quickly wipe of the blood. I open the window and throw the sock into the dumpster below. I wish I could fall down with the sock. I belong with it, in the trash. I rush to the bathroom and lock the door. I run the water and clean up my wounds so they stop bleeding. I take my liquid bandaid and paint the skin tone substance over my hard work. Such a shame I must cover it up. They're like battle scars for me, but others would freak if they say me in this state.

I have these thoughts so often I ought to replace that slot with what I once bought.

I put on my pair of fingerless gloves and pull up my socks. Wiping the last bit of blood I meekly walked out of the bathroom.

My mom walked up to me and smiled obliviously. She asked "How was your day?"

I smile with all the happiness I gained from my recent battle.
"It was good mom."

Cause somebody stole my car radio and now I just sit in
Silence.

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